


Out of the Darkness and Into the Light

by Swordy



Series: Ebony [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Ignis Scientia, Canon Disabled Character, Fluff, M/M, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16158686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swordy/pseuds/Swordy
Summary: With Noct's magic, Ignis moved and functioned, not as a sighted person, but as someone with as close an approximation as anyone could get.When Noct died however, this magic disappeared with him. But where Gladio and Prompto lost only their weapons, Ignis lost much, much more.Or: Gladio helps Ignis find another new normal.





	Out of the Darkness and Into the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/gifts).



> Just a little something for the wonderful Atropa, who suggested that Ignis traversed the World of Ruin so successfully because of Noct's magic and encouraged me to run with the idea of him having to find an alternative after Noct was gone.
> 
> This is for you hon. <3

When Noct died and the dawn broke the world changed again.

Unlike the dawn breaking, the change didn’t happen overnight—after all, people had spent an entire decade living in austerity so old habits took a long time to die and even longer to bury. But gradually, each new day where the sun rose allowed people to emerge from their torpor, to break free of the holding patterns that had helped keep them alive for those long, terrible years. People started to _live_ again, rather than simply settling for an existence when almost everything in the world was conspiring to end it.

But the change meant work and lots of it. People wanted to enjoy themselves and have things when for so long they'd had nothing, and the joy at simply being alive no longer sustained people the way it had in those first few days and weeks. Happiness at survival against all odds was quickly tempered by the desire to have _more_. Resources weren’t magically replenished, infrastructures not instantaneously rebuilt. Managing these expectations fell once again to the people who gave everything the first time around, so determined were they not to see Noct's sacrifice be in vain.

So work they did.

Not that it was a bad thing. Work was an anaesthetic for the pain and none of them were crazy enough to pretend otherwise. Their duties acted as a barrier against the grief at losing Noct. Prompto grew restless when the time came to reoccupy the citadel. He belonged there as much as the rest of them, but with Noct gone it wasn’t where his heart lay. He preferred life on the road and so he directed his energies toward the rebuilding work beyond the city walls. The other two let him go, even though it hurt to see their number reduced further.

Gladio had the Crownsguard. With years of experience behind him and Cor at his side, his path was a natural one for him to tread. He thrived on growing and organising those forces, driven by the intense desire to maintain the hard-won peace that had come at such a high personal cost. Gladio had no king to shield, so he shielded Noct's country and his people instead. He could do that for Noct, even though the man himself wasn’t here to see it.

Gladio had known where Ignis's strength lay when it came to forging this new world. Whereas he and Prompto were the tools that shaped and refined the vision, Ignis was its architect. No one had a greater understanding of the political landscape and what was needed to get Lucis back on its feet again. Gladio regularly marvelled at the sheer amount of information Ignis could hold in his head as he multitasked and oversaw projects that would build a future worthy of Noct's memory.

But Ignis's exacting schedule masked a personal struggle that few were aware of. After Ignis had lost his sight, he’d readjusted to his new situation admirably. Once he’d overcome the initial shock, he’d worked tirelessly until he regained his confidence. What people didn’t necessarily realise was that Ignis was utilising the bond he shared with Noct to achieve what often seemed impossible.

Gladio and Prompto had been resistant to Ignis hunting again. Understandable, really, since taking away such a heavily utilised sense constituted a major disability. Patiently he’d told them how Noct's magic—the same magic which still allowed them to summon their weapons through the Armiger—was giving him vital information that helped him make sense of the world. All things, he’d explained, gave off ethereal energies that could penetrate even the solid blackness of his world. Once he’d become aware of the shimmering light surrounding anything with a life force, he’d taught himself to focus on it, to _see_ it, and to use the information in place of his vision.

Then he’d re-learned how to fight.

With Noct's magic, Ignis moved and functioned, not as a sighted person, but as someone with as close an approximation as anyone could get. And he adjusted to the change. The years of Noct's absence were hard, but the presence of his benevolent powers were a comfort—a reminder that he was still alive even though he was lost to them inside the crystal. When Noct died however, this magic disappeared with him. No longer could a mere thought be enough to bring a weapon into their hands. It provided another layer to their grief. But where Gladio and Prompto lost only their weapons, Ignis lost much, much more.

And if Gladio had the power to change one small thing only, then it would be that. Ignis, who had given so much, who had had to adjust to a difficult new normal, now had to do so all over again—a poor reward for helping save the world by anyone's standards.

As is ever the case, Ignis soldiers on in silence, never complaining about his lot. He’s constantly being told how this future is better, and yet on a practical level, his life is harder than ever. Those years with Noct's magic created a cruel illusion—that he was coping well with being blind. Now he’s starting again from scratch, and he has the bruised shins and the wearied frustration to show for it.

In one respect Ignis is happy to accept that his fighting days are over; he still trains with Gladio to maintain physical fitness, but years of punishing backflips and handsprings have been hard on his joints and to avoid risking further damage he’s willingly hung up his blades. What’s harder is the way the blackness has stolen his independence. Although no one judges him for it, Ignis abhors seeming clumsy in front of others. During the years Noct was in the crystal, the world was a far more dangerous place, yet he traversed it fearlessly. Now, even with his cane in hand, it has shrunk down to only the places he knows well, even though few would realise that he limits himself in this way.

Gladio sees it though. He watches, helpless to intervene, as the edges of Ignis's confidence have sheared away. He’s accepted the explanations, knowing really they are excuses, why Ignis doesn’t want to be anywhere other than the citadel or the apartment they share. Ignis, who battled through the ravaged city streets and took down Iron Giants on the palace steps, will not walk out into the city alone—the same city that he helped to save.

It’s a horrible irony, but there it is. Ignis is once again paying the price for freedom.

The man himself plays down any suggestion that he’s been dealt an unfair hand. Instead, he buries himself in work and insists that he’s fine. And Gladio supports him as best he can and knows that he isn’t.

But ultimately Gladio is a man of action. He can only stay helpless for so long before he determines that offence is the best defence and he sets to work solving these issues. It takes a while—months, in fact—but when he finds the solution he knows it’s meant to be.

OoOoO

“Where are we going, Gladio?” Ignis asks, exasperated, and not for the first time since this journey began.

They’ve driven about an hour out of Insomnia and, at Gladio's advice, Ignis has wrapped up in his long woollen coat with the collar turned up against the biting October winds. Gladio has stoically endured Ignis's grumbling about the deadlines he has and the reports he should be working on and is rewarded by their destination coming into view.

“You’ll see.”

Ignis snorts. “Well therein lies the problem.”

“Figure of speech,” Gladio replies, “you'll be pleased to know we're here.”

Gladio brings the car to a stop in front of an old, but sizeable property. The house is flanked by trees wearing rich autumnal colours and there’s a battered old truck parked off to one side. Ignis listens to Gladio get out of the car, then the soft muted crunch of dirt beneath booted feet as Gladio walks around to the passenger side. Ignis climbs out, glad of his warm winter coat, and takes the crook of Gladio's elbow. His cane has remained at their apartment and he ignores the dull flare of anxiety at being away from home without it.

Neatly avoiding giving any real detail, Gladio describes the path they're taking towards the house. They ascend some steps together and Gladio presses the doorbell. All at once there is the sound of barking from somewhere within the property. Ignis turns to Gladio, his expression questioning even though his gaze is slightly over Gladio's shoulder.

“Trust me okay?” Gladio says and doesn’t elaborate.

More footsteps and then the door opens with a sharp creak.

“Gladio!” a female voice exclaims warmly. “Come in. You made it.”

“We did. Orla, allow me to introduce my partner, Ignis. Ignis, this is Orla.”

“A pleasure,” Ignis says, unfailingly polite even though Gladio can sense his discomfort at not being sure where they are. They shake hands and then Orla steps back to allow them in.

“Can I get you both a drink?” she asks as she leads them through to a large airy sitting room.

“Coffee would be great,” Gladio answers, as Ignis nods in agreement.

“Coming up.”

Once her footsteps have faded, Ignis rounds on his partner—not angry, but frustrated at still being none the wiser at the reason for this trip.

“Gladio? Could you please at least tell me—”

“ _Iggy_. Do you trust me?”

Ignis sighs. “Of course I do.”

“Right. Well give me your coat and sit down. The couch is about two paces directly behind you.”

Ignis huffs but he does as he’s told. A minute or so later, Orla reappears with their coffees.

“I’ll just put these over here,” she tells them, placing them on a small side table to Gladio's left. “And I’ll go and get Delilah.”

Footsteps fade away again. Ignis frowns, his eyebrows slanting over the top of his visor.

“Gladio? Who is Delilah.”

Gladio smiles, the expression bleeding maddeningly into his voice when he answers. “She's a great girl. I think you're really gonna like her.”

Ignis is about to reply when a door opens from somewhere in the house and he sacrifices his response in order to listen more carefully.

“Here we are,” Orla announces warmly just as Ignis identifies claws clicking on the hardwood floor and the unmistakable sound of panting. “Is it okay if she comes over to you?”

“Of course,” Ignis replies, instinctively knowing it's his permission being sought. He holds out a hand and makes a clicking noise low in his throat. Almost instantly he’s got a handful of soft, damp muzzle. He smiles as Delilah sniffs and nuzzles against him.

“She’s a black Labrador,” Gladio explains. “I swear she’s got the most beautiful brown eyes and her coat is really glossy.”

“I can tell,” Ignis says, his hand sliding effortlessly across her silken fur. Instantly he’s transported back to his childhood. They always had a dog at home, and he remembers well the feelings of quiet calm they engendered. He imagines her eyes, just as Gladio described them. “As glorious as she is, I’m afraid it still doesn’t explain why we're here.”

“Well, aside from being a good looking girl, she’s also mother to a litter of six puppies who are now about eight weeks old. Orla's brought one with her. Would you like to meet it?”

Ignis smiles. “If Delilah is agreeable, that would be lovely.”

As Orla steps forward and lowers something small and wriggling into his arms, Gladio says, “You wanna know something interesting about the litter? They were born on August thirtieth.”

Ignis's head jerks up and he gasps. “Noct's birthday.”

“Yeah.” Gladio smiles, having known that Ignis would not miss the significance of the date. “Cool, huh?”

“It is.”

Gladio gets off the couch and comes to kneel beside where Ignis is sitting. “So this is one of Delilah's puppies. She's the one I really wanted you to meet because about a year from now she’s hopefully going to make an important companion to someone who needs a little support rediscovering their independence.” Gladio offers the puppy his hand, smiling as it begins to lick at it furiously. “I’d really like that person to be you, Iggy.”

Ignis ducks his head, lost in the sensations of holding and caressing this creature who will grow up to have a wonderful, purposeful life. Gladio's hand moves to cover his own.

“I know Insomnia needs you and you’ve got important work to do,” Gladio says gently, “but it’s time for you to start living too.”

Ignis swallows hard. “What makes you think she's the one?” he asks, already feeling his resistance melting away at the warm wriggling bundle in his arms. He pictures himself negotiating the city streets, a calm, confident canine companion at his side. It certainly isn’t the worst idea in the world. He hears Gladio chuckling in amusement.

“Orla, please tell Ignis the name of this puppy.”

“Absolutely. Ignis, I’d like you to meet... Ebony.”

Ignis makes an amused sound, which quickly becomes a laugh. Gladio joins in, causing the puppy to jump excitedly at them both.

“So what do you think?” Gladio asks after their laughter has subsided.

Ignis considers the question, enjoying the soft fur beneath his fingertips. As much as he’s tried to convince himself otherwise, it's true that he misses being able to come and go as he pleases without having to rely on Gladio or Talcott. Maybe he doesn’t need magic to guide him through this next chapter of his life. Maybe four legs will do.

“I think... I think I’d like to be that person, too,” he replies eventually. He raises his head and offers Gladio a teasing smile.

“After all, when have you ever known me to turn down an Ebony?”

  
**End**


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